Eventually Hell - Touch
by Viskey HeroMouse
Summary: After the ordeal in the POW-camp, Face finds it increasingly uncomfortable to be touched. Murdock notices and won't stand for it.
1. Chapter 1

_Sorry for the long delay, but first there was NaNoWriMo, then there was preparation for Christmas, then Christmas, then I had my dear co-author over for a visit._

 _Finally time to breathe and post._

* * *

Face looked harshly over to Murdock. He'd already had a few and was obviously going for more. Face didn't like Murdock drunk. He became so... so not-Murdock, when he was. Almost with a violent touch. And a man so gentle by nature shouldn't be violent in any way. Just how had he ended up with Murdock in this bar in the first place? What had driven him to accompany him here?

"Murdock, don't you think you've had enough?" he asked sourly, as Murdock ordered another drink.

"And what is it to you?" Murdock retorted, already with difficulties.

"Well, for one, you've asked me to come along. I thought... I don't think it's very much fun watching you getting drunk." Face took the freshly filled glass and poured it before Murdock could.

"Hey, that was mine!" Murdock protested aloud.

"Buy yourself another one." Face pulled some change from his pocket and dropped it onto the counter in front of Murdock. "I'm gone though. I'll wait for you at the plane." He turned to leave.

"Face, you're not... you're not leaving, are you?" The sudden concern in Murdock's tone made Face stop. "Are you... Are you mad at me?" God, he sounded like a kid, saying that.

"No, I'm not mad at you. But I _am_ leaving." Face realized, he really wasn't mad, not anymore, just annoyed, and even annoyance faded under those begging eyes.

"I'm coming with you," Murdock announced, hopping off the stool and following Face outside.

Face turned left, heading towards their jeep.

"No, let's go there..." Murdock pulled Face into the other direction.

Face started back at the touch. He was finding it more and more uncomfortable to be touched. 'Funny,' he thought, 'it all comes so slowly.' But Murdock was too drunk to notice it. "What you want there?" Face asked uninterested.

"Meet Trin."

"Hey, I don't want to watch you getting smashed and I _definitely_ don't want to watch you having a tart. Clear?" Now Face was angry again. And, strangely enough, this time Murdock didn't care. Or notice.

"She's not a tart. – Well yeah, she is, but she's also a... a sort of a friend."

"Would she spend time with you if you didn't pay her?"

"Rather no than yes."

"She's not a friend then," Face stated coolly.

"I said sort of," Murdock insisted.

"Whatever, I'm not interested." Face crossed his arms and looked coldly down at Murdock, although he had to actually look up.

"You'll like her. She's exactly your type: female." Murdock grinned underhandedly. Face excused it, due to the alcohol, but it was hard. "Come on..." Murdock pleaded.

Face shook his head. "I'm not interested, Murdock. I don't..." But could he just admit that he didn't want body-contact? Wasn't that contradicting the whole concept of 'Face'? Hadn't he made one big mistake by not going into town anymore, picking up the odd girl? Oh yes, he definitely had. He was to change that in future. He definitely had to change that going-into-town-bit. "Fine." It was not quite the enthusiasm he was shooting for, but hey, baby-steps.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Trin welcomed Murdock with open arms, though she didn't like Murdock when he was drunk. Most men were easier to handle when they were drunk, but not him. And no matter how much he'd had, he couldn't be betrayed. Other men paid and then dozed off. Trin would open their pants and then wake them, throw them out. That didn't work with Murdock. She'd tried it once and he'd become real angry.

And that other man he had brought along... He was a handsome guy, sure, but looked around suspiciously as if he expected a trap or something. Well, no traps here. Hopefully he came to that conclusion, and soon. She didn't need no trouble.

* * *

Face had reluctantly given in. So they had ended up in this small hotel. Trin appeared to be a nice girl, true enough, but Face still had no desire to touch or be touched. He looked over to Murdock. What the hell was he thinking? What had he planned? If he had planned anything, that was. Had he wanted to "invite" him on a girl? Certainly not the three of them together, Murdock wasn't that sort of a guy. So what was on Murdock's mind? Obviously Trin was not sure about that either. She gave Murdock an inquiring, suspicious look.

"I do not you two," she said. "Understand? I do not same time, understand?" Murdock nodded. So did Face, before he answered: "Don't bother me. I'll wait down here." Trin was fine with that, and lead Murdock up the stairs.

Face sat down on the steps, propped his head up on his knees and waited. He just hoped Murdock would have forgotten this by tomorrow morning. It was so unlike him not to have a girl. But the thought of touching and being touched – intimately, above all – was simply too much.

* * *

"You sure you can fly?" Face gloated. Of course he knew Murdock could. Murdock always could.

"Face, shut up," Murdock warned leniently before he turned his attention back to the plane and the take-off. He had a headache and felt sick. Oh my god, how much had he had last night? He didn't quite remember. Quite a few, then. And Trin. Face hadn't wanted her. Why hadn't Face wanted her? Was it true then?

"Face, why didn't you... last night, why..."

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you..." Murdock let it drop. Maybe he just had not wanted to be second after him. Which was kind of off-putting, even with a professional. But ... "Face, when was the last time you had a girl?" he asked bluntly.

"Sorry, must have missed the part where you explain to me how that is any of your business." Face retorted defensively.

"As a friend..."

"Well, I know when _you_ had _your_ last girl and I really think that's enough information."

"So is it true?" Murdock asked sympathetically.

"Is what true?"

Murdock reached out and touched Face. Only briefly on the upper arm, but it made Face jump. Murdock only nodded. Any prove he would have needed came in that response. Back home in Texas he had known a girl, a neighbour. She'd gone to Waco, where some goddamn son-of-a-bitch had raped her. She had come back home, and, every time somebody touched her, she jumped, Just like Face was now. But whereas she had got better in time, Face seemed to be get worse.

A contact-holder took over from there. The real Murdock inside broke down. He could have avoided that. Had he only insisted... Had he only... His shivers found their way to the real world.

"Murdock, you ok?" Face turned in the copilot's seat. They had just taken off and were rising. It was not really the best time for the pilot to have a breakdown.

"Yeah, yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"You don't look ok. – You're not gonna crash this plane, are you? – I don't wanna die so soon, you know..."

"I don't crash! I never crash!" Murdock complained, getting himself back under control.

Face nodded with anxiousness in his eyes.

The rest of the flight from Da Nang to their home base passed in uneasy silence. Neither spoke for fear of being sorted out by the other one. They both felt like they had something to hide, and once they landed, they each went their own way.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

When it was time to turn in for the night, Face and Murdock still didn't talk. They just nodded at each other as a good-night before Murdock turned out the light.

A long silence.

"No, Billy, you can't sleep in my bed."

Silence.

"No, leave me alone. You're too big to sleep in my bed. Go down!"

"Murdock, get your stupid dog under control," Face moaned tiredly.

"I'm trying, man, I'm trying! – And he ain't stupid. It's just, he won't stay out of my bed."

Face suppressed asigh, debated with himself, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't get any sleep if he let Murdock carry on about Billy. "Tell you what,", he said. "Send Billy over, he can sleep in my bed."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"Ok, but don't complain if you don't get any sleep tonight."

And maybe it was invisible Billy's doing that Face didn't sleep much that night. But more likely it was the sudorific nightmares that woke him again and again. After the last one, Face got up. It was shortly after four in the morning, and he declared defeat.

He sat up in his bed, staring into the darkness of the room, at the slightly lighter rectangle of their window, forcing his thoughts down cheerier avenues. For the most part it even worked.

"You awake?" Murdock's sleepy voice came over from the other bed a few minutes later.

"Yeah."

For a moment silence reigned in the room.

"Bad dream?" Murdock asked

Face looked over at him, hardly seeing him, just a few faint outlines.

"Me too," Murdock offered, sitting up.

Face raised his eyebrows in amazement. That Murdock could just admit it like that... "What do you have to have bad dreams about?" That was a stupid question, and more importantly, it was an insensitive question. Because Murdock had been a POW too. And something obviously has happened to him in the camp, and it had broken him.

"You."

"I what?"

"You, I have you to dream about." Murdock confessed in a small voice and uncomfortably shifted on his bunk.

"And that makes for bad dreams? Thanks so much."

Murdock cleared his throat. "Well, not necessarily, but... Well... It's complicated."

"Uh-huh." Face wished Murdock would go back to sleep, so that he could wait for daybreak in peace and get his reeling thoughts back under control. He needed to be back under control by morning.

"I've seen you." Murdock's voice was soft and raw.

Face started at the tone. "What? Seen me where, when? What?"

"That day, when they came to liberate us. A grunt carried you by." A strangled sound, probably a half-swallowed sob. "I thought I was... I thought I was just imagining it. You looked so..."

Face pulled up his legs and wrapped his arms around them. He did not need to know what he had looked like - not too hot, he imagined. He had enough knowing what he had felt like.

For a while they both sat on their bunks in silence in similar positions, arms folded around themselves.

"... forgive me?" Murdock asked after a few minutes, his voice thick and sticky.

"What?" Face asked back, and there was a lot less emotion and compassion in it than he would have liked.

"Can you forgive me?" Murdock repeated a little more clearly.

"Forgive you for what?" Surprise helped to overcome the stunned silence.

Murdock didn't answer.

"Forgive you for what?" Face repeated. "There is nothing to forgive. You saw me, so what?

"I didn't tell."

"So?" Face failed to see the significance. "Nothing much would have changed."

"... don't understand..." Murdock whispered.

"What's there to understand? You are... let's be honest: you're crazy. You do have trouble distinuishing truth from fantasy, sometimes. It started even before... But with Charlie's treatment, I don't suppose it got any better."

Murdock shook his head. "No, not that, I mean, yeah sure, reality gets a bit wobbly sometime. But... I just believed that you were dead. How could..."

"How could you not?" It surprised Face, how easily it came out. He had given Hannibal hell for it, so why didn't he mind with Murdock? Was that the difference being the leader made? Or was he cutting Murdock some slack, because he was nuts? "Men died in there, Murdock. I was gone for months. Why not think I had died?"

"Well, you haven't," Murdock protested.

"Yeah, but you couldn't have known that." He got up, walked over to Murdock and after a moment's hesitation squeezed his shoulder lightly. "I probably would have thought the same."

"You can't know that."

"No, and neither can you."

"Touché."

"At least my theory is being backed up by numbers: Hannibal and BA also thought I was dead."

Murdock sniffed, wiped his face. "If you want to look at it like that..."

"I do. And now, can we go back to sleep? I'm here, I'm fine, so stop worrying." Face already got up, withdrawing his hand, but Murdock caught it.

"No."

"No?"

"You're here, Face, but you're not fine. You're about as fine as I am."

"I'm not..." ... crazy. But that would be mean. Face pulled his hand from Murdock's grip. "I may not be a hundred percent," he said, "but considering the circumstances, I'd say I'm doing mindboglingly well."

"Maybe, but that doesn't make you fine."

"Well, tough luck. Nobody over here is."

"Face..."

"No, Murdock, this is over. How I feel and what I do about it is none of your business, so quit."

"You are my best friend, that makes it my business."

"It doesn't," Face said, dead-pan. Then the other thing, Murdock had said, caught up with him. "Your best friend? I'm your best friend?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?"

"I assumed it would be somebody back home."

Murdock waved it off. "Nah. Used to be, but nobody there understands me. Here..." He chuckled. "Here nobody understands me either, but it seems to me that over here nobody understands nobody else, so I'm peachy."


	4. Chapter 4

_Many thanks for the comments and follows! - It has to be sai, every now and again. ;)_

* * *

A few days later Face found himself wide awake in the small hours once more. He couldn't have named a single detail of his dreams if his life had depended on it, although the subject was, of course, an easy guess. But even without remembering the dreams themselves, Face had no interest in going back to sleep, when hardly an hour later he would wake up with his heart racing and his throat tight. As if he were steps away from dying.

He did not need that to happen again.

So he settled under his covers with a magazine and a torchlight, like back in the orphanage, reading Treasure Island and other adventure stories after light-out.

That reminiscence, more than the magazine, helped to distract him and calm him down. He was about to drift off back to sleep when he heard a rustling noise mixed in with... mumbling?

Face flapped his cover back and looked over to Murdock, who was twitching in his sleep, muttering unintelligible words, fragments of sentences, and the odd curse. Debating with himself only for a moment, Face got up, walked over to Murdock and shook him, first gently, then with more vigour. It took a while until Murdock woke up. He blinked at Face, blinked around the dark room, illuminated only by the thin beam of light from Face's torch, before he settled back on Face.

"Hey, there. Awake at last?" Face asked.

Murdock nodded. "Yeah." And almost as an afterthought, "sorry to wake you."

"Never mind, was already up," Face answered, before he realized that with that answer he was giving himself away. He was supposed to feel fine, have restful nights.

Murdock, in response to that slip-up, reached out to rub his shoulder comfortingly.

Face twisted away from the touch, again faster than he could realize what that revealed about him.

"Thank you," Murdock muttered softly.

"Don't mention it."

Murdock was silent for a beat, and Face turned to walk back to his own bed.

"I feel I should mention it, though", Murdock said then. "Somebody should mention it."

"No, really, it's fine. We all have bad moments. No big deal." Face insisted.

"Yeah, but your bad moments have a tendency to linger, don't they? Linger and grow bigger and longer."

"What?" Face whipped around, an unnerved frown on his face.

"Do you honestly think I haven't noticed? You avoid touch like the plague, both touching and being touched."

"I don't," Face claimed stubbornly, but denial was useless. Murdock might have gone nuts, but he was not stupid, and his observational skills did not appear to have suffered. And if nothing else, Murdock was his friend, and as such deserved the respect that lay in honesty. "Ok, so I do. What's it to you? What's the big deal?" He put his arms around himself, holding himself together, keeping himself shielded from his own frail nerves.

"The deal is," said Murdock gently, "that you have always been close to people, physically. Body contact has always been a natural part of your communication."

"Well, so I retrained myself, got a problem with that?" He tightened the hold on himself.

"Yeah, I do, because I know what caused it."

"Yeah?!" Face burst out. No hold could be strong enough now to keep his raging nerves in check. Murdock couldn't know, he mustn't know.

"Yeah, I do." Murdock's voice was unwaveringly gentle.

"Well... well..." Words deserted him. So Face stalled by finally returning to his own bed and hiding under the covers.

"Face, let me help you. Please?"

"How?!"

"I don't know yet," Murdock amitted.

"In that case, mind your own goddamn business."

"As my friend, you are my business."

Damn, why couldn't Murdock just take the hint and leave things alone? Face sat up, annoyed. "You and Hannibal, you just never give up once you've set your mind on something, do you?"

"And why should we?" Murdock asked back bluntly.

"Because **I** have set my mind on something different!"

"You've set your mind on something stupid," Murdock declared.

"I don't have to listen to this!" Face declared angrily, slipped into his boots and stomped outside.

"You're not gettin away that easy," Murdock called after him and followed him out into the dirt yard in front of their quarters.

Face thought about walking further into the camp, but he had a feeling that Murock woul not be deterred by an audience. He was going to say whatever he felt he needed to say. So he stopped. "Murdock, please", he begged in a low voice.

"Faceman, I'm not here to hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

But you are! Face screamed in his mind. You're hurting me right now! Stop chasing me, stop cornering me! Why are you so much harder to shake than Hannibal?

"I'd never hurt you", Murdock repeated intensely.

"I know", Face amitted in a small voice. Murdock was not doing it on purpose.

"I realise that it may feel different to you now", Murdock continued, "but I only want to help you. What they have done to you is cruel. But if you let it affect the rest of your life, you let them do it over and over again. Every day. Is that what you want?"

"No." Face's voice had gone down to a whisper. No, he did not want that, he just didn't know how to handle it differently. And then his mind offered him a way out: "Be honest. Who do you want to help? Me or yourself? Because you obviously think that you could have done something to avoid this whole affair."

Murdock dropped his head. "Well, I could have."

"No," Face insisted. "You did what you could, I was never part of that. I wasn't."

Face snorted with contempt. "You know nothing, Murdock." He stepped close enough to be able to see up into Murdock's face and bore his eyes into Murdock's: They were black in the scarce light of the stars, big and gentle. He intended to snort again, but out came a sigh. He turned to walk away from Murdock. Murdock knew nothing.

* * *

 _TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_This bit may seem out of place, but I hope it gets clear soon enough._

* * *

The two soldiers leading him away from his team were both smaller than him, probably weaker as well.

He could have fought them.

And if it had been only those two, he probably would have. But that was just it, there were more, lots more, where these came from. Even if he managed to defeat them, they would be quickly replace by two others, or three, or four, or... or just one, one bullet. So he kept walking between them. His back straight, his chin up, even after they were out of sight of the Team. He could shown weakness now. Could, but wouldn't. He was a man.

He stumbled and fell, as they pushed him into a small enclosure. His fingers dug deep into wet soil. Another man landed on top of him.

"Get off of me," Face complained automatically and started at the noise of his own voice. It was so damn loud in the reigning silence.

He got to his feet and walked over to the fence opposite the gate. He wasted only one thought on climbing the bamboo and disappearing into the jungle. He would be shot faster than he could think.

"What's this about?" a boy somewhere left of Face asked in a whisper.

"Psycho-terror," answered another one.

"Will they bring us back?" the first asked naively, sounding terribly young.

"Surely not tonight, man." Then there was silence again.

Face tried to catch somebody's eyes, just anybody's. He needed to look at someone, needed someone to look at him. He couldn't stand to be just one of the masses. He needed to stand out, at least to one person. He... He caught a fearful gaze. Big brown eyes looked up at him, the boy was sitting on the ground. Face looked back; two fearful gazes. Face walked over to him. "Hi, what's your name?" he asked.

"Bedbug," the boy answered warily. "Well, no, Tim. Tim Sanderburgh." He looked down at his fingers for a second. "I'm gonna die soon, we all are. I... I don't want to die under that silly name," he explained.

"I'm the Faceman," Face introduced himself. "Real name's Tem." He smiled sadly at the similarity of names. "Templeton Peck." He was tempted to shake Tim's hand, just to feel the other boy, to shoo away the loneliness and surreality, but he suppressed it. Instead he made do with crouching down next to him.

"What we gonna do now?" Tim asked, sounding very much like that naive boy before. Maybe it had been him.

"Pray, if you know any prayers," Face answered plainly and closed his eyes. The green gardens of the Guardians' Angels appeared in front of his inner eye. The big entrance hall, the old wooden stairs, the dormitories, the kitchen where they were not supposed to be, and where he had been so often. He wished to be home. How little it had felt like home when he had had it, it was all he wished for now. It was true then, what they say: You only know what you had when you lost it.

"I wanna go home," Tim whimpered beside him, as if he'd read his mind.

Face put his arm around him. "Me too."

"Wanna see my Mom and Dad and Carol, my sister. She's eleven next week." Tim wiped his nose. "I should have written her a letter, but... I'm from Dehoma, South Dakota. That's a little spot in the middle of nowhere. Where're you from?"

Face wondered for a second why Tim told him all that. "LA, I'm from LA," he answered. Maybe it was just reassuring that they were human. "That's in the middle of everything, though some New Yorkers may tell you differently," he tried for a joke, and indeed Tim laughed softly.

"What bout your family, you miss them?"

'What a stupid question,' Face thought. 'Show me a prisoner that doesn't miss his family – provided he has one.' Face shook his head, then nodded. His family might not consist of parents and siblings, but of nuns, priests and other orphans. And yes, he missed them, very much even. He made Tim look at him. Tim's eyes reminded him very much of Murdock's: almost black now, big and gentle.

The night turned out to be just as dark as Hannibal had wished. It became cold and moist. Tim had fallen asleep beside him, but Face couldn't sleep. He looked up at the stars that weren't there. 'God,' he prayed in his thoughts. 'Make it quick, yeah? Do me that one favour, make them shoot me.' It didn't occur to him, that praying for death was about the saddest prayer one could speak.

At some point he must have dozed off too, because he woke to orders shouted in Vietnamese.

They were taken from the enclosure one by one.

Tim looked back at Face in sheer terror, as he was dragged away. In the short time they'd had together, Face had become his anchor. Face resisted the ridiculous urge to wave him good-bye. After half an hour the next guy was taken: a steady rhythm of death. They heard no shots, but... Everyone tried hard to hide behind the others. No one wanted to be next.

* * *

 _For those who didn't guess: That was a flashback. ;)  
_

 _TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

_For better orientation and understanding, I'm posting the last paragraph from chapter 4 together with the knew stuff. Between this paragraph and the following chapter there would be the flashback of chapter 5. Sorry, this is all a bit cumbersome, I know, but by chopping this story up into chapters, I feel this is the best way to go._

* * *

From ch.4: _Face snorted with contempt. "You know nothing, Murdock." He stepped close enough to be able to see up into Murdock's face and bore his eyes into Murdock's: They were black in the scarce light of the stars, big and gentle. He intended to snort again, but out came a sigh. He turned to walk away from Murdock. Murdock knew nothing._

 _(flashback)_

Murdock followed Face with his eyes as he walked away from him, the light was a little better outside, but still just enough to see shapes. He considered the situation, wondered how much Face was able to bear at the moment. It wouldn't help any if he pushed him too hard. "I may not know everything, Face. I don't need to either," he said, catching up with him. He hesitated for another second. "That bony, blood-covered body I see when I close my eyes, is enough for me."

Face pressed his hands against his ears.

"Listen to me, Face!"

"Shut up," Face demanded, his hands still at his ears.

"Face..."

"You could have done nothing, Murdock, hear me? Nothing!" Face swirled around and glared at Murdock. Funnily enough, that glare was clearly visible, even in this darkness.

"I wanted to break out and get help," Murdock confessed quietly. "Hannibal and BA were against it. They said all of us or none of us." The revelation elicited now reaction from Face, so maybe he already knew that bit.

"Murdock," Face said, suddenly gentle again, which confused Murdock only more. "How long would it have taken you to get help? – Assuming you'd made it."

Murdock didn't answer. He knew the point Face was going to make, and nothing he could say now would help his position.

And true enough, Face continued: "I'll tell you. Way too long."

"But not five months," Murdock insisted.

Face only made a disdainful gesture. "Five days, five weeks, five months. It's all the same when you lose time itself. Could've been five years to me. Every now and then they..." He swallowed the rest. "You've got other things to worry about than time when..." Again, he did not finish.

Murdock felt the weight of the withheld words pressing down on him. "But..."

"No really", Face interrupted. "You wouldn't have spared me much of anything. And I couldn't bear the thought of you having died for me. In vain."

Murdock wanted to argue. Who, for instance, said that it would have been in vain, but his throat was constricted so tight, no word could pass.

"Now, give it a rest, okay? What happened, happened." Face did not wait for an answer. He turned and once again walked away.

And once again, Murdock followed him with his eyes, but only his eyes, this time. That man was entirely too good at making excuses and finding loopholes. It was not going to be easy, cracking him open so he could heal.

* * *

 _TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm not a native English-speaker, and unfortunately, I'm also without a beta-reader. I have a feeling that I messed up quite a few sentences in this chapter. Please try to overlook the mistakes and enjoy the story. Hopefully I managed to beat this chater into an enjoyable form.  
_

* * *

"I'm ok, Hannibal," Face repeated impatiently. This time Hannibal kept asking him if he really was fine with the plan, like every other minute or so. At least that's what it felt like, and it was becoming rather irritating very quickly. "Now stop worrying 'bout me and get on with it."

"I'm not worrying about you, Face. It's just, if there's anything you can't do, and you don't tell me, the whole plan is worth a rat's fart. And that may endanger us all. So, tell me."

For some reason, put like that, it sounded even worse. "Hannibal, I'm fine", Face reassured. "Not particularly thrilled, I'll admit, but fine. I can and will do my part." He looked Hannibal squarely in the eyes. "Now can we get on with it?"

Hannibal nodded.

* * *

Mudock had the engine of the small Russian chopper fired up, and all that was left for him to do was pull the collective* and lift off. But before he did, he threw a glance into the back. BA sat there, held inside by pure sense of duty. Hannibal and Face each kept a watchful eye on him anyway. With BA, one never knew, he might just jump off at the last second. Wouldn't be the first time, either.

"Eyes on the road, Captain," Hannibal said evenly.

Murdock took a firm hold of his controls, pulled the collective, steadied the rising bird with the pedals until he was a comfortable ten feet in the air, then he pushed the cyclic forward, and they were off. Deep into enemy territory - hence the foreign chopper, spoils of war be praised. Murdock only hoped that every AAFC along their route was informed about this, lest they started firing at them.

He grinned against his nerves. He just loved missions like this. In an US army helicopter they would be safe from AAFC, but in danger once they crossed the front line. In a Vietcong helicopter it would be the other way around.

And that still didn't say anything about the mission itself: meeting Tran Li Qui, a Vietnamese spy, who, for all Murdock knew, was a double-agent. He had helped them on a number of occasions, yes, but also, his information had been faulty every now and then. Tran Li Qui was by no means a safe bet.

Twenty-three minutes later Murdock landed in a clearing.

Everything was calm, which was good, seeing as how they were an hour early. Nevertheless, they wasted no time and got ready, Face climbed out of the chopper to find himself a good sniper-spot on one side of the clearing. BA, slowly coming out of his catatonia, did the same on the other side. Hannibal climbed out but stayed with the chopper. Murdock also stayed with the chopper, in his seat, ready to start and take off at a moment's notice.

As it turned out, they were not the only ones to arrive early. Tran showed up with eighteen minutes to spare and his own back-up team, no doubt. He cast a pointed look at Murdock. "Don't you trust me, Colonel?" he asked.

"Should I?" Hannibal asked back.

"Where is the rest of your unit? There are usually at least three of you - four with the pilot."

"Oh, they are around," Hannibal answered lightly, "don't your worry about them, they're fine."

Tran shrugged. "Well, let's get down to business then."

Business was over quickly. Tran Li Qui was, if nothing else, a first class capitalist. He'd sell everyone and everything to just anyone, as long as the price was right. So Hannibal handed Tran a box filled with money and in return received a box worth 122 lives, hopefully. Information on a POW-camp.

Tran and his men disappeared into the jungle, Hannibal handed the box to Murdock, who quickly stored it under his seat. The message was clear: _No matter what, take this information back._ He hated Hannibal for that decision, but understood it at the same time. Which made him hate the whole situation just that much more.

"Face, all clear with you?" Hannibal asked into his walkie-talkie.

"Seems to be."

"BA?"

"Yellow," BA answered in code.

"Can you handle it?"

Murdock's stomach cramped up.

"Nothing to handle yet, just don't feel right."

Face's hushed voice followed suit: "Yellow. Brownies eighty to my nine." - Vietcong approximately eighty feet to the south of Face's position, wherever that was exactly.

Like a walkie-talkie game of ping-pong, BA's voice came in right after Face finished. "Brownies from noon and six, moving three." - Vietcong approaching BA's position from the north and south, with BA moving west to escape them.

Their code was a very simple one, using a clock-face for the cardinal directions. The only twist was, that they each had a different point of reference. Face's north lay on three, BA's on six, Hannibal's on nine. Murdock's lay on twelve, just because somebody had to have it the traditional way, and he had pulled the short straw.

"Damn," Hannibal cursed.

"Damn, damn, damn," Murdock seconded, thirded and fourthed the sentiment, as he started the engine.

"Face, BA, if at all possible..."

"On my way," came BA's answer, no response from Face.

Murdock's stomach cramped up some more.

"Orange."

Face, thank God! Orange was not a particularly good status, but still better than red. And Face transmitting meant that he was still alive and free. For the moment. The relief was short lived, however.

"Red clockwise," Face hissed.

Murdock's body itched all over with the need to do something to help, but his part of this mission was quite clear. All he could do was delaying take-off for a little bit longer. Thankfully, so far, Hannibal had not given him the direct order.

"Bird in cage," Face went on, and for a moment Murdock honestly couldn't process the message, because "bird in cage" meant a soldier in a VC-bunker. How had Face detected... Face was good, sure, but...

"I'm the bird, by the way."

Oh. Well that was something else. Murdock found he could breathe again. But, again, it didn't keep, because a moment after that gun-fire ripped through the jungle.

"Hannibal, statue?" BA sounded tense. He must feel just like Murdock did, desperate to help his buddy who was likely torn to shreds that very moment.

"Statue," Hannibal confirmed, then he glanced over at Murdock.

"Statue", Murdock said into his mike. It was not a question, it was a demand.

Hannibal nodded.

"Noon clear," Face quickly informed before the gun-fire resumed.

"BA, move!" Hannibal ordered and started to move himself. "Murdock, top!"

"Copy." Murdock bit it out between gritted teeth. At least, Hannibal hadn't sent him back to base, just up into the air, out of the immediate hot-zone. The sounds of the battle fell away as he rose, the radio being silent as well, leaving him in the dark, until two long hours later Hannibal radioed in.

"Captain, still nearby?"

"Two clearings over."

"Come and get us." Hannibal sounded calm enough.

"My pleasure."

Ten minutes later Murdock had his team back in his chopper. Face and Hannibal had come out of the fight unscathed, BA had taken a graze to his left temple, but didn't seem too bad off. He was oriented, not dizzy, and even complaining a little about having to fly.

"Gotta believe that skull," Hannibal commented with a head-shake and a wide grin.

* * *

* _Helicopters have three steering-devices:  
The collective makes it rise and sink  
_ _The cyclic moves it backwards, forwards, left and right  
The pedals control the tail-rotor and or steady the entire helicopter in the air (respectively makes the helicopter rotate around its own vertical axis)  
_

 _TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

They reached homebase and Hannibal delivered BA to the medics, personally, and against his sergeant's express, vociferous protests. "It already stopped bleeding!" he claimed, and it was almost the truth.

By Hannibal's judgement it would take maybe another five minutes. But he was not going to have any of this. "I don't care, you get that cleaned and properly wrapped. There's nothing else for you to do today anyway, you may as well have yourself checked out."

BA scowled. He prided himself in being strong and invincible. Even more so since they got out of the POW-camp. Having an injury that needed medical attention went against all that.

"Sergeant," Hannibal said, his tone softening just a little, "Murdock's flying me over to Saigon in a bit, to deliver our purchase of today. There's nothing you can do there. So have your head checked, and then enjoy your time off. I believe there's a banged up jeep around here somewhere with your name on it."

BA fought against it, but it was a losing battle. The prospect of getting out of a flight - two flights, actually - lifted his mood, and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Alright," he gave in.

Hannibal had a hard time hiding his own grin. BA was so easiy to handle.

* * *

"Face, whatcha say? Have a night-out in Saigon?" Murdock asked with a sideways glance at Hannibal who did not protest the offer.

Face did not care much for a night-out,but he had nothing against one either. So he just shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

A few hours later Hannibal left to deal with the top brass after wishing them a good time.

"So, what now?" Murdock asked adventurously and with a broad smile and sparkling eyes.

"I don't know about you, but I'm heading for that hotel and get some rest."

"Rest?!" Murdock protested like he was personally insulted by the word. "Face, it's only six in the evening, the sun hasn't even set!"

"So?" Face challenged.

"So?! That's way too early for rest! I'm sure there's quite some adrenaline still floating round in your body after today's mission. You gotta get rid of that."

"Murdock, do whatever you think you have to do, but don't count me in. I'm off." Face sniffed indignantly and started walking.

"Face, don't get upset. Care if I join you?"

Face shook his head no, although he'd rather Murdock left him alone. He didn't want him around, because he was a total wild card, anything could happen.

Their hotel was about ten minutes from their position. By the time they reached it Murdock had talked Face into having a drink, just one. So they dived into a bar, just across the street. Murdock ordered two whiskys. They sat down at a small table and sipped their drinks in silence for a while.

"No Trin Thi, Murdock. What you gonna do tonight?" Face teased with a nasty undertone after the first half of his drink. But Murdock stayed calm. Face should have known; it was practically impossible to irritate Murdock. "Find yourself another chick?" Face went on, nonetheless. He really wanted Murdock to be irritated, wanted him to get pissed, so he would rush off; or so he could gracefully back out himself. But Murdock did not go with that plan, but calmly ordered two more drinks.

"I agreed to one drink."

"One, two, what's the difference?"

"One."

Murdock shrugged. "Just go ahead, Face. My treat."

"What else?" Face emptied his first glass. After a moment's hesitation he took a sip off the second glass. It tasted good. Good whisky was rare in Vietnam. Mostly it was some cheap brew, about as close to real whisky as noon was to midnight. But this, this was good stuff. So when Murdock ordered a third round, Face didn't protest.

After that Murdock ordered another round and another and... Face lost count.

It was a while after midnight, and they were both fairly drunk, when they finally left the bar and walked the few steps to the hotel. Hannibal was already there, not that they saw much of him, but where else would he be? Murdock was giggling uncontrollably. About what, Face didn't know. Perhaps some inside joke, just inside Murdock. But to see Murdock that cheery brightened up his own mood.

The receptionist was... well, elsewhere.

"What now?" Face asked.

"Steal a room," Murdock answered, still giggling. He stretched over the counter and got hold of a key.

"It's not _stealing_ , Murdock, we're Army, we're _requisitioning_ ," Face lectured, but then halted. "It's not even requisitioning, 'cause we're gonna pay in the morning." Face took the key from Murdock and watched Murdock trying to fish for another one, but there was no other one.

Murdock shrugged apologetically. "Mind sharing?"

Face didn't. He was sharing with Murdock every night. Why should he suddenly care?

Murdock nodded satisfied and followed Face upstairs.

The room was small with only one bed. And that fact sobered Face up a bit. "Murdock, we've got a problem," he said.

"Why, bed's big enough for the two of us." Murdock closed the door behind him.

"Murdock, please go and get another key," Face asked.

But Murdock shook his head. He took off his boots and went over to the bed. "There's no more keys, remember? And I'm tired. Night, Face." He lay down, pulling the cover over him.

Face stood at the door and considered his options. He could go downstairs and see if there was another key, after all. Or he could stay. The bed was indeed big enough for two. Or he could sleep in the only chair in the room, but that looked neither comfortable nor stable.

"What's taking you," Murdock asked, "you coming or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, coming." Face slowly walked over to the bed, took off his boots, took off his jacket. He lifted the cover, and lay down. He could feel Murdock's body heat beside him.

He lay awake.

* * *

 _TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

Murdock was awakened by a kick that almost chucked him out of bed.

Face beside him struggled in his sleep. He looked as if he tried to keep something away from him. Well, rather someone. He moved his lips as if he were saying something, but didn't make a sound. Murdock tried to read from Face's lips, but couldn't.

Another push.

"Face?" Murdock reached for Face's shoulder and shook to wake him up.

Face woke with a forceful push that _did_ chuck Murdock out of bed. "M-Murdock?" he asked guiltily, right afterwards. "You ok?"

Murdock sat up, propped his elbows on the bed and smiled mischievously. "All bones intact," he informed wryly.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"I guess you didn't do it on purpose. Or so I hope."

"It was just, you... you..."

"I disturbed you in your nightmare," Murdock helped out.

Face blushed and lowered his head. He hated admitting it, but denying didn't make much sense at the moment.

"You wanna tell me about it?" Murdock asked, before he heaved himself back into bed.

"Not really, actually."

"I figure, you should anyway. Talking about it helps."

"Guess that's why you talk so much about your dreams, right?"

The statement stung. But Murdock was determined not to let it get him down. Personalities exchanged inside him, and a more cunning contact-holder took over. "My dreams don't toss other people out of bed at night," that person said.

"Easy claim to make when you don't usually share your bed. Besides, how d'you wanna know talking helps if you don't do it?"

"I might have done it in the past."

"But not now." Face insisted.

Face was doing it again, Murdock realised. "Stop doing that," he demanded, "stop twisting my words until they fit with your defences. We're not discussing me now. You had the nightmare, not me."

"This time", Face amitted, and that only because it worked as an attack as well.

Murdock had to think quickly if he wanted to stay ahead of this conversation. "This time is the only thing that counts right now. So, can we get back to your dream now?"

"Can't remember saying I'd talk about it."

"Neither do I, but I won't leave you alone till you do."

"You're stubborn."

"Running out of arguments?"

"No. Just stating facts." But he was running out of arguments and buying himself some time.

"Face?" Another personality-exchange taking place. The person in charge now was chiefly caring.

Face reacted to it immediately: He sighed, drew up his legs, folded his arms around them and sighed again. "I was dreaming about one of the last days. They... They wanted me to..." He struggled for words. "They ordered me to... But I couldn't. It was... Oh, Murdock, how shall I say it?"

"With the words the English language provides."

"They expected me to... rape a girl. I didn't do it, just couldn't. I... I bet she's dead now. I bet they killed her. Raping a little Viet-girl is not that amusing, I guess. Doing it to me was much more fun, I bet."

Murdock prudently kept his mouth shut. Any word would have been the wrong one now. He was aware that Face wasn't really talking about his dream, but at least he was talking.

"She looked at me, when they dragged her away. I've never seen so much gratitude in anybody's eyes before." Face's voice sounded thick with tears, but his eyes were dry. "They made me regret. They tried to make me regret. But I don't. I'll never regret I've been human."

Cautiously Murdock moved beside Face. He felt Face should cry all these tears at last. He shouldn't bottle them up anymore. He put his arm around Face's shoulders to comfort him. And already while he was doing it, he scolded himself for being so stupid. Of course Face would jump and the mood would be spoiled. But somehow he couldn't stop himself doing it.

Surprisingly Face did not jump. He tensed up for a second, but that was it. His thoughts had trailed off: "Talk about it, hm, Murdock?"

"Yes."

Face turned his head to look at Murdock.

A silence fell between them. "Murdock, I appreciate your intentions, I really do. But there's nothing you could possibly do for me. You just don't understand what they did."

"I guess I do," Murdock contradicted tenderly.

"No, Murdock." Face turned away, not angrily though and still accepting Murdock's arm around him. He was simply making a statement. "You think you do. And in theory that may be even so, but theory is miles and miles and miles from reality. - - - Imagine hands, thousands of hands. They're... ripping you open. They're tearing you into pieces. They're... They're laughing over you. They spit on you, they..." Face left the sentence unfinished. Some more information, he felt, Murdock didn't need to know. "Every touch is painful or nauseating, many times both. I've had enough touches for the rest of my life."

Murdock was still considering what to do or say next, when Face relieved him of the decision. He leaned in on Murdock, just a little bit, but Murdock noticed, and he tightened his hug, also just a little bit. He didn't want to ask too much of Face.

"Remember the day they took me?" Face asked softly.

Murdock stifled a snort; how could he forget? That was the day his heart – and finally his sanity – broke.

"Remember, I told you to take care of Hannibal."

"As if he needed to be taken care of," Murdock whispered his answer.

"Well, he's human."

"True."

"And I don't know, if I got that look, you gave me in return, right... You promised me... something..." It came out rather as a question than as a statement.

"I promised you to be there for you," Murdock confirmed.

"Is that still up?"

"A promise is a promise, Face. I stick to my word."

"Maybe... I've been thinking. You know, you annoyed me a lot that other night, but you were right. If I let them affect the rest of my life... Maybe... maybe I... I..." Face took a deep breath. "God, this is really hard to say, Murdock. I... need... help." He looked to the door, as far away from Murdock as possible. Hannibal was right. It was almost impossible for him to ask for help. It was so hard for him to admit needs. "You won't ever hurt me, Murdock, will you?" he asked shakily in direction to the door. He felt like he was on a silver tray, just about to be cut into pieces. "Will you?" He repeated anxiously, when Murdock didn't answer right away.

Murdock reached for Face's chin, and turned his head, so he could look him in the eyes, when he told him that he'd rather die than hurt him. Hurt him again, as his heart insisted. So big eyes, pleading for understanding, pleading for a little comfort. These eyes, they looked so strange and they looked so familiar.

"I would never, never hurt you, Face. You are much too important to me. Don't you know?"

Face cast his eyes down so he wouldn't have to look into Murdock's muddling eyes. "These days I don't know too many things anymore."

"Know this: I'll be always there for you, come what may. I'll never hurt you, come what may. I'll always love you." Murdock swallowed his own surprise over these words. He couldn't take them back, he sure wished he could, but...

"Love me... come what may?" Face didn't seem to stumble over that word – love.

"Come what may," Murdock repeated numbly.

"What you mean, you'll always love me?" Face asked, looking up.

Ah, so there we are, just belated cognition. "Well..." Murdock blushed, pulled back his arm and gasped with surprise, when Face – Face! – grabbed his hand to keep his arm right where it was. "I don't know, Face, really. It... It just..." It had just escaped him. He had not intended to say it, had not even known it was there...

"Murdock?"

"I don't know."

Face still held Murdock's hand on his shoulder. He felt so secure in Murdock's arm. No, Murdock would never hurt him, how silly to ask if he would. "Can you hold me? For the rest of the night?"

Murdock raised his eyebrows. Did he hear that or was he hallucinating again? Murdock would have bet his life, Face had never said those words before.

"You don't have to. Sorry, I asked." Face misinterpreted Murdock's silence. He let go of the hand and moved away from Murdock.

"No, no, I'd love to. I was... a little surprised, that's all."

Face looked at Murdock in suspicion. When Murdock nodded, he moved closer. Murdock put both arms around him and pulled him down with him. Face didn't resist it. So now he lay there, close to Murdock, in his arms, being held securely. God, it felt so good to be held. He had forgotten how good.

Murdock lay with Face half beside, half on top of him. He was still tense, but relaxed noticeably. After a moment he trustfully rested his head on Murdock's shoulder, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

All contact-holders vanished into temporary oblivion, and all that was left was Murdock, for the first time in ages at peace with himself and the world. Face's warm, regular breath soothingly brushed his neck, his steady heart-beat against his side becalmed him with an almost hypnotizing rhythm. The refrain of a song drifted through his mind. "Honey, don't you see, I will protect you, I will protect you from all the things they've done to me, I will protect you..." How true. Murdock slipped into half-sleep.

* * *

 _TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

_Since it's been a while (shame on me), let me remind you: We have left Face and Murdock, both drunk, together in a hotelroom in a bed. And Murdock kind of confessed his love for Face. All caught up, I hope ..._

* * *

"Why do you love me?" Face asked in a whisper at Murdock's collarbone.

"What?" Murdock had gone deeper than he'd realised and needed a moment to wake fully.

"I have to ask **now**. Tomorrow I won't dare anymore, but tonight I'm drunk enough. And I want to know. So why?"

"No idea," Murdock answered honestly.

"There must be a reason," Face insisted, moving a little. Murdock tightened his embrace a bit. He didn't want Face to move away from him. It did him good, did them both good.

"I..." Murdock let the sentence die. Why do you love somebody in the first place? Because he's good looking? Because he's got a fine sense of humour? Because he's charming? Because he's available? Why? Murdock sighed. "I guess it's just the click."

"Click?"

"Yeah, that click inside you. You see someone, and there it is, like a light being switched on inside you. And after that you simply know that you're connected to that person in some karmic way."

"Karmic way..." Face sounded slightly ironic.

"Well, I know, karmic is not Christian terminology, but still it happens to Christians also. I mean, I'm a Christian myself, and it clicked."

"And you knew..." It was not really a question, rather thinking aloud.

"Right." Murdock nodded.

"How do you know it's love and not, let's say, hate?"

"Don't know. Guess it's like..." Murdock thought for a moment. "I guess it's like different colours of light. The click switches on a light, and then, whatever colour it is, you just know."

Face didn't answer this. He only cuddled a little closer. "Night, Murdock."

"Night, Face."

Murdock felt Face's head on his shoulder again. He felt him breathing against his chest, felt warm, moist air brushing his neck and silk-like hair tickling his cheek. He felt Face's body, so close to his own. They were heating each other up, but he sort of liked that. "My Gold," he mouthed. Face stirred slightly, so Murdock shut his mouth again. He didn't want to catch Face's attention. Not with what was roaming his mind. It was a poem he'd once read and he thought it fit with the situation just perfectly.

Rest in my arms, at night, when you sleep.  
My birds of honour will guide your dreams,  
my birds of dignity will guide you back  
into sparkling wakeness, my Gold  
Over the bridge we'll walk together  
with my birds of esteem ahead  
and my wings of fondness will always embrace you  
to comfort and shelter, my Gold.

* * *

Face woke early in the morning. He'd had a peaceful night without nightmares or even disturbing dreams. Something warm was at his back. Sunlight, coming through the window? But then he remembered it was Murdock, not the sun. And Murdock's arm was lying leisurely around his waist. Face didn't dare to move. What would Murdock do, when he found himself that close to his friend? So unnaturally close. Face didn't know and didn't want to know. He wanted to revel in this embrace as long as he could, so he just lay, drifting somewhere between sleeping and waking. He let his thoughts run free. They were all circling around Murdock. He was so sweet, yes, really sweet. He was so caring, so concerned. Everything bothered him. And... love. What exactly had Murdock meant by it? That "click-theory" was not really satisfying. People don't have switches inside them that go click. It felt a 100% Murdock, though. Hey, that man was seeing an invisible dog, so why not switches that go click? And it did have something romantic about it.

Leslie... Had he felt a click with her? No. Had he with Murdock? No. Now there was something to think about. If they were connected by karma and the click was the symptom, they should both feel it, shouldn't they?

But Murdock's warmth at his back, the arm around him... It distracted him again. He remembered last night. Last night they had been lying face to face. Almost, at least. Murdock had said wonderful things to him. 'No, he hadn't,' some voice in the background of his consciousness interrupted, 'he had said nonsense things.' 'Ok, ok, ok,' Face thought in response, 'he had said things in a wonderful way.' His voice had been soft and full of acceptance, had been soaked with it really. Face knew, in these minutes Murdock would have accepted just about everything. That voice. Murdock had an extraordinary voice. He could make it sound anything from child-like to erotic. Yesterday...

Face had no idea what to call yesterday's voice. It had been neither of the two and yet both, and at the same time something else entirely as well. It had been like all of Murdock's possible voices rolled into one.

* * *

Hannibal dressed slowly. He was still tired. The meeting with the generals had taken quite some time and had been exhausting. Futile discussions for the most part, but he'd had to stay. He had come to the hotel only short before midnight. He wondered what had happened to Murdock and Face, for when he had come to check in, the receptionist had told him there were no new guests. Apparently they were having a good time, like he'd wished them. Maybe a bar or/and a girl. Still, they'd better be there at 0600, as appointed.

* * *

In another room Murdock woke up, because someone moved in his arms. Face. He had slept in his arms the whole night. The poem came back to his mind. Or maybe it was still there, he had fallen asleep with it lingering on. It just so incredibly perfectly matched Face. My Gold. What else, if not that, could describe him?

Face got up. He had to, it was time. They were to meet Hannibal at 0600 and it was now... three minutes to six. "Murdock?" he asked softly, his voice sounding too loud and misplaced in his own ears.

"What?"

Murdock's sounded just fine. "Three minutes till we have to meet Hannibal. So hurry up."

Murdock nodded and sat up. There was plenty of time, he thought. Since they'd slept in their fatigues, all they had to do was get up, put on their boots and walk downstairs.

"How do I look?" Face asked, quickly running his hands through his hair.

"Pretty, just like you always do," Murdock answered. And he couldn't hide a smile, when Face wiped his cheeks and drew a face.

"I need a shaving," he complained.

"Oh, a little stubble gives you a somewhat masculine touch," Murdock mocked.

"Somewhat masculine?!"

But Murdock only grinned broadly and slipped into his boots.

"What you mean, _somewhat_ masculine? – Murdock!"

Murdock had left the room.

Hannibal was waiting in the lobby. Face and Murdock had 27 seconds left. He wasn't petty in general, but sometimes... God, he was just tired. Too little sleep usually wore on him. 19 seconds.

"Murdock, come on, tell me!" Hannibal turned to the stairs and saw Murdock appear, closely followed by Face.

"Just in time, guys. I was already scheming punishment."

"Aw, Hannibal, you didn't really expect us to be late, did you?" Murdock asked, totally ignoring Face. As for why he ignored him, he had no idea himself. Some pigheaded contact had taken over control and he didn't want to know about Face or anything that had happened last night. Murdock sighed inside.

"Well, I wasn't all too sure. When I heard you hadn't checked in at midnight I lost hope. When did you check in?"

"Strictly speaking, we didn't at all." Murdock put the key on the counter and some cash beside it. "There was no one there to ask." Murdock started giggling. "We were just 'requisitioning'..."

"Glad to see you've been having a good time, Captain," Hannibal commented wryly. "Now let's get going."


	11. Chapter 11

_Another whoppingly long pause, I'm sorry. But at least this time I actually have a good excuse (well, at least halway good). Got a new job, and much as I like it, it's quite demanding. I'm pretty much tired all the time._

* * *

The flight back was quiet. Hannibal and Face were sitting in the back, leaving Murdock to himself.

Hannibal had tried to get some information out of his lieutenant, but Face was blocking once again. Monosyllabic answers was all he got. When have you come to the hotel? One. What have you done? Bar. How much did you drink? Not even a word, just a shrug. Like that it went on until Hannibal gave up. So now they just sat on opposite sides of the plane, avoiding to look at each other. Hannibal tried to convince himself that Face was only having a hangover, but he feared that that was not all. He had come a long way since they got him back, but he still had ways to go, before he would be alright, if that was ever going to happen. Judging by the state he was in when Hannibal had found him in that was very much a possibility. He had had weeks of recuperation behind him when Hannibal had shown up, and he still had looked like crap.

He had no idea what had happened to Face, at the same time he had a few ideas too many. It was testimony to his deep-seated cowardice, that he covered up with flamboyancy and cockyness, that so far he had not tried to find out for sure.

* * *

Face threw a short glance over to Hannibal every now and then and hoped that he put his general reluctance to talk down to a short night and too much alcohol. Both were taking their toll on him, true, but the real reason was one certain pilot. This morning Murdock was behaving so strangely different from last night. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Had Murdock forgotten? Was that possible? They all knew Murdock wasn't quite right up top anymore, but was it that serious? Or was he – more likely – just ashamed of what he had confessed last night? Which, when you follow the line, would indicate that it was true. Murdock loved him.

Just what the hell did that actually mean?

Face got up and walked up to the front to sit in the copilot's seat, that was empty as usual. Officially, Murdock did have a designated co-pilot, but most time, he left the guy behind, which suited every party involved just fine.

"Faceman, what's up?"

"Murdock, can I talk to you?"

"You already do, Muchacho, doncha?"

"Yeah, yeah." Face was not going to start splitting hairs with Murdock, because that would only play into his hands and move them away from the conversation, Face was intent on having. "I mean: Can we talk about last night?" Being angry over Murdock's lame deflection-attempt helped with being direct.

"What's there to talk about?" Murdock asked lightly, but there was a nervous undertone in his voice that betrayed him. He had not forgotten.

"You know. Don't play dumb on me."

Murdock cleared his throat, and after that took the situation a bit more seriously. "You said, you wouldn't dare today."

Face immediately blushed. Yes, he had said that, and normally that would be true. But Murdock's weird behaviour piqued his curiosity, and that was stronger than his shame. Also, being sure that Murdock really did have feelings for him, helped. He was not going out on a limb here, Murdock had done that last night. Face was merely following him out onto the ledge. "I admit,I wouldn't be here if..." He shook his head. "I don't really want to be here and have this conversation, but I want you acting as if nothing happened even less." He took a breath. "So what was it, were you making fun of me? Were you just talking nonsense, lying to shut me up and make me sleep? Because I can tell you right now: I don't care much for being treated that way."

There was no response from Murdock, except you counted an extremely uncomfortable facial expression as a response.

Face sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking out the side of the cockpit onto the landscape flitting by underneath them.

"I was not making fun of you", Murdock finally said. His voice was calm and unaffected. "And for what it's worth, I didn't lie."

And yet, Face thought, he sounded as if here were lying. Was his deduction wrong after all? Murdock was clearly embarrassed about last night, but was he embarrassed because he had let the truth out, or because he had used a stupid lie instead of a clever one?

"We done then?" There was more emotion in this question than in the reassurance before, and it was hope, hope that this was over.

It could be, but Face was not going to let Murdock off the hook quite so easily. "Where is the guy I was with yesterday?" he asked. "I don't know what's going on with you, but right now you feel like two people to me, and I don't know how to deal with the one you are now. So, come and see me when the other you shows up again."

* * *

 _TBC_


	12. Chapter 12

BA's head was bandaged, but intact - as he had known right from the start it would be. Now he was waiting at the runway for his team to return. He knew it was a remnant from the camp, and therefore probably stupid, but he just didn't feel at ease with them being further away from him than he could run in five minutes. Tops. More like one minute.

Tops.

He knew immediately that something had happened when they climbed out of the plane. They were all too silent. The one thing he cherished about his team was that they did not give each other the silent treatment; unless something was seriously wrong. And judging from the way Murdock looked the other way and kept a distance between himself and the other two... Although, on closer observation, he kept a distance from Face. Oh, them idiots.

Ever since Face had returned, they were doing a dance around each other that was as subtle as it was weird. Murdock avoiding Face, Face avoiding Murdock... and now all over again.

"Hey Faceman, c'mon and help me with somethin'." BA was determined to do something about that. It was not yet affecting their team-work, but it might in the future.

"Sure. I'll be right there. Just wanna change and shave first. You have that much time?"

BA nodded. "I'll be working on the jeep."

Face showed up a half hour later, about a quarter hour longer than changing and shaving would have warranted. Except if he had thrown in a quick shower as well, which was very possible. Face had always been a bit of a neat-freak, but since the camp he was borderline compulsive.

"So, what do you need from me?" Face asked placidly.

BA scrached his head for a moment. He had spent the wait thinking about how to start. This was a very delicate matter, he had to tread carefully, so Face wouldn't rush off. He was the running-away-type of guy. "Face, you gotta promise me something before I start."

Face paused for a second, but then nodded and, still calm and unruffled, said, "sure, what?"

"All I'm asking is that you listen. I mean, it's up to you, what you do afterwards, but first listen, got that?" That pretty much was a trap. If Face didn't want to lose face, he had to agree.

True enough, Face nodded, even though his suspicions grew visibly stronger.

"That fool, Murdock."

Face so painstakingly did not react, that BA knew he'd hit the the poblem head-on. Not that there had been much doubt about it before.

"I don't know what that thing between the two of you is, and I don't want to know, but get it straightened out."

"Tell him, not me."

Wow, a real answer. BA had not dared to hope for that.

"Well, I'm telling you. Remember, you promised to listen."

Face nodded reluctantly.

"What's the matter with you and him anyway? You used to be friends. Now it looks you got something 'tween you, something big. As I said, I don't care what it is, just get it fixed. You two need to talk to each other again. If you don't, you might kill the Team."

Face looked at him reproachfully. "It's something personal. And I know how to tell personal from professional. And so does he."

BA did not doubt that, but personal animosities and problems had a tendency to permeate all aspects of life, no matter how hard you tried not to let it happen. "Look, I don't want to preach you. But you guys need to get your act together. Not just 'cause it's safer for the team, but 'cause it's a shame, letting a good friendship go to waste. So stop being so pigheaded, and start doing something about it." Deeming the matter closed as far as he was concerned, BA looked around. "You haven't seen a tin with some screws in it, have you?"

* * *

It was late and Face slowly returned to the room he shared with Murdock, BA's pep-talk still on his mind. He was not wrong, Face had to admit, but what to do when Murdock didn't play along? How was he supposed to clear the air between them when Murdock wouldn't even talk with him? He couldn't do it on his own.

He had done his best, giving it another try just after dinner, but to no avail, Murdock had still been distanced and weird. So... Face sighed. So now the ball was in Murdock's court. He had done his best, but there just came a point when things became futile.

Face had played cards, purely for the distraction it offered, and for the first time in ages he had lost without intending to. Cheating at cards was second nature to him, but tonight he had kept messing up the cards. This whole mess with Murdock throwing him off his game.

The room was dark, and a soft snore told him that his roomie was in, and fast asleep. Good. Face really had no energy left for another encounter with this stranger who was supposed to be his friend.

Lying in bed an hour later, Face still listened to the sounds of the night. Insects buzzing, wind rustling in leafs, creaking in the woodwork above, Murdocks even breathing. "Please, I want to sleeeeeep", he mouthed in soundless agony. He was dog-tired, but sleep just didn't come. He turned to the other side. More sounds of the night, another turn.

"Can't sleep?"

Face half jumped out of his skin. "You're awake?"

"With all the ruckus you're making? You bet."

"Ruckus?" Face coplained loudly.

Murdock chuckled softly. "Alright, alright, sorry, no ruckus. Can't sleep, not your fault."

"You were sleeping when I came in."

Murdock cleared his throat. "Well, reasons to wake up besides you being noisy."

"I was not..." Face huffed, then halted. Murdock was being himself again. Approachable, friendly, talkative.

"Is that you again", Face asked rather outspokenly. "I mean, are you you? What is it, do you need the dark to hide in to be really you?"

There was a lengthy silence from Murdock, until Face almost believed that he had shocked his friend away.

"Sorry for today", Murdock said softly. "Don't know what got into this Captain. I mean, there I am, promising to never hurt you, and then I go an do exactly that. I mean..."

"You didn't," Face lied. "You confused me." And for what it was worth, that bit was also true.

"I..." Murdock sat up. "The thing I said yesterday, I meant it," he said softly.

Face sat up as well, and for a while they just sat there, in almost complete darkness, looking at nothing and listening to silence.

* * *

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_"I..." Murdock sat up. "The thing I said yesterday, I meant it," he said softly._

 _Face sat up as well, and for a while they just sat there, in almost complete darkness, looking at nothing and listening to silence._

What thing exactly was Murdock referring to, Face wondered. Loving him? Helping him? Not wanting to hurt him?

"When you asked me for help the other night," Murdock finally broke the silence, "what exactly did you mean? Learning to be touched again?"

Face nodded, glad that he didn't have to speak it out himself, but that would have been just too weird; asking his best friend, who had just recently confessed his love for him, and in whom he had no such interest at all, to please touch him until he got used to it again. "I'm just sick of jumping every time somebody... you know, brushes against me in the mess or something. It's unnerving, believe me." And it totally ruined the image of _The Faceman._ Couldn't have that.

"But you don't", Murdock said. "I'm touching you, a lot, and quite ... well, widespreadedly, if that's a word. And you don't jump."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"Is it? In what way?"

Face didn't care too much for the eager curiosity in Murdock's voice. It sounded like he was dealing with some kind of interesting bug under a microscope rather than with a friend. But the question was a fair one, so Face tried to answer it. "I don't know, it just is. You're you." And somehow, that seemed to explain everything.

"And?" Murdock came over and sat down beside Face.

"And what? You are..." Face started thinking. "Touches from you are predictable. You are predictable."

Murdock laughed. "I'm pretty sure you stand alone with that assessment. Since I've gone nuts, people have clled me a lot of things, but not that."

"Yeah well, 'people' don't know you. Me, BA and Hannibal, we do. Like with your dog Billy. Most people would just assume that you've lost it, like completel lost it, and wouldn't trust you any further than they could throw you. But we know you would take Billy along, but you would never rely on him to actually do something. You're not all that nuts. Besides, I don't like that word, nuts."

"Why not? Better than unfurnished in the attic. Shorter, above all."

"It sounds..."

"Crazy?"

Face had to laugh. It **did** sound crazy; so it served its purpose. He intended to give some smart answer, when an unforeseen touch made him jump.

"Not all that predictable, am I?" Murdock mocked leniently.

"Don't do that again, Murdock!"

"Why not? I thought that's what you asked for."

"But -"

"Look," Murdock interrupted, "how can you expect to get used to accidental touches, if I warn you before?"

There was a point for Murdock. Face sighed. "I'm afraid I'll never make it. Thanks for trying anyway." He started turning around to lay down, but Murdock stopped him. Both hands wrapped around his upper arms, and there was strength in the grip, almost painful.

"You're not gettin away like that, my friend." Murdock loosened his grip just a little. "Look, I'm not in full control over myself, no point whitewashing that. So there may be times when I can't help, much as I'd love to."

"Like today?"

"Like today," Murdock aknowledged. "I'm not going to make anymore promises that I can't keep, but right now, I'm here. You better take advantage while I am. I really want to help you. All sides of me do, only some sides are incapable of actually doing it. Some others on the other hand are great at it. So make up your mind, Face. Yes or no." Murdock bore into Face's eyes and continued. "I'll help you, if you want me to. But make up your mind. Do it or leave it. But when you do it, do it properly. Don't thank me for my efforts while you draw back. That way it's not gonna work."

"You an expert on that or what?" The defence was weak.

Murdock shrugged. "No, but I've had my share of life. And it taught me some things. I'm not fresh off the boat, y'know?" Face didn't answer. "So, you want me to help you or not?" This time Face nodded. "Good. And don't bother if you jump. I know you will, but I don't bother. So why should you?"

There it was again, Murdock's peculiar logic. Face had to smile at it. Murdock was just one of a kind.

* * *

TBC


End file.
